Eyes without a Face
by Constance-Lirit
Summary: Frollo x oc; He sings of Maria,the protector in hellsfire. But who is this guardian he looks up to? Let us find out!


Through the winters icy hale of Paris a figure struggles, fighting to get through the storm to try find shelter. From under a cloaked veil the faceless man shudders, bringing his arms together to be tighter against his body. Crossing the barren waste land of empty streets, slipping out from frightening dark alleyways, and ducking under rattling wooden window shutters. The icy shards that pelt down against his cold stricken skin stinging painfully. For a moment he looks up, up at the ominous black castle that was Notre-Dame's Cathedral in the distance.  
Rows and rows of dark clouds cast around the very apex's of the ancient stone walls. Climbing the sharp steps the mysterious man glances forwards, from underneath the darkness of his hood towards a singular house. The pelting white bits of glass from above cascading down, pounding up against the stone and steel. Larger buildings standing all around the man, staring down; creating frightening shadows that no safe haven should surely have.  
Knocking urgently he turns his head to peer around, a candle light against the drawn curtains slowly growing brighter. Now leant against the wooden frame of the wall panting he starts to black out, falling into the reacting woman's arms when they open the door. Surprised she takes the man inside, limping slightly under the weight of his body.

Upon the floor of the shaking house the man struggles through his dreams, just barely escaping the pitch-black nightmares to wake up. A set of hands taking his chest to push him back down, a stern expression on their face.  
"Don't move, you will open the wounds" softly the feminine voice passes through their ears, their face relaxing as they lay back down. Groaning under the pain while she turns her head away, looking down to close her eyes and sigh. "I'm just glad you have woken up.. You're badly beaten, Claude. What were you doing?" the scarlet haired woman enquires, reciting her rosary bead prayers while slowly rotating the chain. Hearing a disgruntled mutter she stops, turning to glance over at the grey haired man. "Go back to sleep, if it still hurts. You always look half dead all the time, anyway…" she jokes, smiling gently.  
Shutting her eyes another time to whisper under her breath, while Frollo turns his head weakly to look at her. "Are you thirsty?" she asks, through the silence that was only disrupted by the cracking candles close by.  
"No.." he dryly mutters, turning his head back to stare directly at the ceiling.  
"You've strained your left arm…" his voice hissing while she speaks, as if she already knew he would try lift it. Hearing a clap of thunder the metal roof above their heads trembles, the rain and hale outside getting worse. "I hope the roof doesn't collapse.." her hazel eyes shuddering for a moment, before her head turns to look at Frollo's thin bony hand.

It was reaching out, turning around to face him while sitting on her calves the young woman tilts her lip. Taking his pale hand which barely held any heat, and resting it upon her lap. Her hazel eyes watching him gently, while running her thumb against the top of his skin. "You need to eat a little more, you're getting too thin…" she complains in a short mumble, watching his strained expressions tense and then relax.  
"You say that all the… time.." he replies weakly, shutting his eyes to take a deep breath. Before long he had fallen asleep, cupping the woman's hand as if to make sure she wouldn't leave him. "Maria.." he whispers, causing her to look up at him. The scarlet woman had started praying for him to get better, and for the gods above to be kind to him.  
By morning the rain had become nothing more than gentle patters against the ground. Frollo waking up to the cool breeze running across his face, the sun was out and high above in the sky. Drying out the water that had collected in the puddles, it hadn't rained like that in along time. Shutting his quivering eyelids the door opens, allowing a streak of yellow light to run across the floor.

Entering the woman walks across, her arms wrapped around a bag with food poking out the top.  
"Awake again are we?" she asks, smiling gently as he slowly sits up. A pillow being placed at his back for him to lean into, a bowl of ready made broth being handed to him. "It's chicken-allsorts" she exclaims, watching the thin man look down at it. For a moment Frollo hesitates, bringing it up to his mouth. Smelling it he glances over at the maiden, her body leaning over a table that is much too small for her. An aging knife cutting through meats on the counter, tilting his head back he tastes the food. Bringing it back from his mouth to look at another time, he wasn't sure why she did call it 'allsorts' but it did taste good.

Sitting down beside him while biting into a raw but skinned carrot, for a while there was no talking. Apart from the occasional yell that went by her house, but other than that the area was desolate. "Are you going to tell me what you were doing?" she enquires, in a gentle Scottish accent that usually made her sound almost angelic. Her voice muffled by the chewing process she was using to eat another piece of the auburn vegetable.  
"What are you insinuating? My horse freaked out during the storm" he defensively, yet calmly, retorts.  
"Really?" she enquires sarcastically, raising her eyebrow sceptically towards him.  
"Yes, I am a religious man. Why would I lie, or get into a fight?" holding it against Frollo her eyebrow shifts further, while her head tilts slightly. A hand cocking the carrot to point its ruined edges at him, while her throat shifts with the movement of the swallowed food.  
"I can tell you're lying, Ollorf…" smiling at him sweetly he slits his eyes, she knew full well that he hated that nickname.  
"Seraphina." he retorts, watching her cringe. The scarlet maiden putting the carrot into her mouth to bites down, creating a large and violent crunch that makes him flincher. "Maria… I wouldn't lie to you" he attempts to lie again, which clearly was not working on her.

Seraphina had been housing a blunt, fixated, and direct stare; an expression that made his smile ease and then disappear completely. "You really are a witch" he mutters, putting the bowl down on the dusty floor next to the faltering wall.  
"I'm a retired nun, Claude. I don't need to wait for a letter from god, I have the direct line" raising his eyebrow, Frollo opens his mouth slightly to watch her. "I was hoping you would tell me, honestly tell me. But I found out what happened through word of mouth, while out at the markets" raising her hand to poke his chest he winces, his back tightening against the wall. "Chasing a poor girl around, and then trying tae abduct her… Even yer poor wee bairn is distraught. Ah aught tae gie ye a skelpit lug fer lying tae me!" she snaps, the full extent of her Scottish blood boiling through.  
Staring at her like a rabbit caught in the path of a galloping horse he stares, unsure what exactly the scarlet zealot had actually yelled at him. Frollo had somewhat understood the statement, tensing when she rubs each side of her head in frustration. "Ye cud hae been killed, ye eejit!" Seraphina plights, putting her hands in front of her to slice the air.

Emphasising how annoyed she really was, the Judge however only watches the maiden cautiously. "Yer ah fankle, gallus, gowk!" the Scot patriot finally mouths off, growling with pure irritation for the mans stupidity.  
"She is a gypsy! Like the rest I wanted her out of the city, that fool Quasimodo got in my way… The captain of the guard has even decided to traitor me" crossing her slender arms and legs Seraphina shuts her eyes, shaking her head with a dissatisfied grunt.  
"They did it because they love one another, are you really that cold?" she enquires, watching him create a fist.  
"All gypsy, no matter the situation, must be purged from Paris!" for a moment she falls silent, watching his anxious expression.  
"They are basically travellers, that have decided to stop here. They work, they earn, they pay taxes. What more do you want from them?" she exclaims, watching him.  
"They are witches and druids, an entire population of antichrists!" he bickers, keeping firm eye contact with her hazel eyes.  
"I think you just need a firm reason for the fact that you're crabbit most of the time" the redhead utters, leaning onto one of her bent and tilted legs.  
"If it weren't for the fact that you are a nun, you wouldn't be sitting here right now" slitting her eyes she sits up, only barely managing to meet the top of his head in a strained manner.  
"I used to be a nun, I'm no more religious than the gypsies are, and you know that… There is another reason behind why you haven't put me in the gallows yet…" she was as sharp as a tact, yet as blunt as stone.

For a while there was further extended silence, the pair looking in any other direction but at each other. "Why didn't you go back to the castle, you dragged yourself quite a distance to get here instead" she asks softly, looking at her knees.  
"I've decided to give up being a Judge" startled she turns to look at him, confusion plastered across her face.  
"What? Why?" Seraphina snaps, her eyelids opening further with shock.  
"I have no intentions of going back there…" poking his chest he turns his head up, coldly examining her annoyed expression.  
"You can't just give up being the Judge of Paris, you worked really hard to get to where you are now" unhinging slightly Frollo questions her, she hadn't been around him long enough to say something like that. "Just because a woman says 'no' to you, it isn't the end of the world Claude!" when ever she spoke his first name his soul would contort, no one called him by that.

Not even his closest allies had any authority or right to say anything but 'Frollo', or 'Judge'.  
"When did I say that was my reason for wanting to stand down?" he asks spitefully, seeing her lean further towards him.  
"What other reason do you have?" Seraphina asks, pouting up at him defiantly. "Exactly!" she barks, finding that he does not reply to her. "What was her name? Ele… Elephant.." she mutters to herself, looking back up at the older figure swiftly. "If Elephant doesn't like you, then she isn't worth your time! Why would you throw your sanity to the dogs for her?" listening to her she turns her head away for a moment, peering across the room to a pot. Getting up to wander towards it, the lid was clattering as bubbling froth slides down the sides. By the corner of the single room the Judge leans back against the wall, somewhat relieved that there was no more pressure being used on him.  
Staring down at the cover he hadn't noticed his black robe was gone until now, along with his hat and rings. Wrapping the cover over his thin body he hisses inwardly, when had that witch undressed him without permission. What authority had she to call his beautiful Esmeralda 'elephant'? Dunked into the shadows of his mind Frollo is brought back, the woman sitting down with something in her hands.

Turning he peers down, it was his black and purple hat. The crimson haired girl holding it gently to her chest, as he then looks up at her. "You can't just give up…" she utters softly, scooting along the hard floor. Her knees now almost brushing against his leg, a saddened set of expressions crossing her face. "What good is religion if it's each other we despise? Fate works in weird ways, that accident happened for a reason. You can't just ignore signs, they are warning you of a horrible fate" glancing away he tenses, her slender hand gripping the cover to try regain his attention. "Vengeance only fuels more hatred, and darkens the soul. Notre-dame sees everything, Claude. It does horrible things to people who don't listen to good advice, and warnings" Seraphina implies, gripping the hat towards herself. "Forget about Elephant" she adds, watching him turn his head in anger.  
"_Forget_? How could I forget about her? She does love me, I know she does. Esmeralda is just shy, you just think that I am going to fail at winning over her heart completely. Who are you to tell _me_ what to do?" backing off slightly she slits her eyes gently, leaning back onto her tailbone.  
"Maybe it's better I sit fearing your downfall, than to pretend that I don't care what happens to you at all. I can't tell you what to do, no one can. In life you must make your own decisions… the people around you can only try to guide you. At the end of the day you, yourself, choose what path you take" Seraphina exclaims quietly, rolling the hat around slowly in her hands.

For a moment Frollo watches this action, his harsh eyes softening marginally over time. Reaching out his hand to cup her lower jawbone, his long bony thumb running along her cheek. Lifting her head up he looks into her nut-coloured eyes, their glazed over state begging with his sharp black eyes. Removing his hand slowly he watches the maidens head float back down, her eyes examining the hats long red ribbon. There had been a burning sensation in the pit stomach, as he watched the young woman. Even when they had first met, this strange pang that he felt had slowly erupted. A feeling he shared with no other person. Frollo could still faintly remember the cold winds that blew the night he met Seraphina.  
Those winds leading him and his black horse towards a large stone bridge, he hadn't been expecting to see anyone; and yet there she was. A mysterious maiden with a long and fiery pleat running down her back. His horse had stopped abruptly that night, if it hadn't he probably wouldn't have seen Seraphina. The young woman standing on a ledge of the strong bridge, just above the deep and murky canal. Her trembling hand gripping onto the wooden stand of a stall that a marketer had left standing.

At first Frollo wasn't sure what it was she was doing, her dress swaying in the breeze. Turning to face the water with her back she had shut her eyes, gulping to herself. His horse seemed a lot wiser than him at this point, its head knocking back and forth to try pull him towards her disobediently. It had dawned on his when she let go what it was she was attempting to do, while her body shakily stood on the very edge of the wall. The maiden shutting her eyes another time, leaning backwards with her arms out at either side; he had only managed to catch her.  
His clenched hand gripping onto the front of her dress, while she hung silently over the edge. By the time she had registered what was going on he had already plucked her from the wall, her body landing on the ground in a heap with a heavy thump. At first he had been ready to tell her that god did not accept anyone who committed suicide, but from the flicker of a golden chain he could see that she was a believer. Frollo's eyes had then captured the true sight of her dress, she was a nun. The deep feelings he had for her quelling inside of himself, from the moment she looked up at him from the ground. From above he could see a shattered and frightened woman, one that needed proper guidance.

To this day Seraphina refused to tell him why she wanted to jump, a side of her he wasn't sure he would ever find out about. From that day onwards the burning sensation had grown stronger, everything from that day almost rotating around her. He called her a witch on several occasions, no one had the strange and ominous power that she seemed to wield. Her very emotions almost seemed to change the weather itself. "Alright skinny-malinky longlegs, eat this" Seraphina states, handing him a new bowl of soup.  
It strongly smelled of beef this time, small blotched herbs floating on the surface of the creamy liquid. At times he was sure she was trying to curse him, or experiment her witch craft onto him. At times he felt as though she, herself, brought him to the bridge, her tainted soul being a test given to him by god. He felt as though he had failed his creator however. The longer he looked at, or stayed near the maiden, the harder it was for Frollo to think of killing her. Most of the time she seemed to be his cure for frustration, she had the ability to calm him down completely.

Perhaps god had given her to him, to keep him from doing something sinful. Her name made his skin crawl, while her face and voice made his head ring like church bells. Why had the heavens sent him a four winged angel. A spiritual guardian with the highest authority below god in heaven. Known solely for their zealous love? Glancing at her there hadn't been a single word spoken in a long time, the only zealous emotion this woman seemed to have was anger and sadness. At times she would over react to the most simplest of things, the burning sensation growing stronger. People used to say that seeing an angels true body forced the viewer to burst into flames, was that why the pit of his stomach burned so furiously?

Catching her sigh he turns to look while he fazes back in, she almost seemed as though she was going to collapse from exhaustion. Seraphina must have been up all night since he came, watching over him and praying repeatedly.  
"Did you sleep at all?" the grey haired man asks, watching her sheepish eyes shift upwards.  
"Yes..." she mumbles, yawning and stretching while speaking.  
"Go to sleep" Frollo states, for once he could see that she was lying. Watching her turn she leans her back up against the wall, nestled against the cold wall beside him. Gently breathing with her eyes shut, the hat clasped in her fingertips.

Usually he would not let anyone touch him, or his belongings. Nor would he share a room, or his belongings with them. He only lived in a large house, not a castle, which was barely ever entered by anyone else but himself. He had taken Seraphina there once, it was a lot bigger than her shack and so was instantly bestowed with 'castle'. He had been stirred from his thoughts this time by something hitting his arm. The scarlet haired woman slipping off of the arm and onto his lap, the shift and bump not even stirring her slightly from the sleep. Tensing he looks down at her, he hated anyone getting this close to him. Especially a woman. Shoving her off onto the floor he grunts, a short lived mumble passing her lips.

It had became late into the afternoon by the time Seraphina had awoken from her slumber. Snuggled tightly into Frollo's leg, curled up against it with her back to him. Stretching and sitting up the crimson haired woman glances to the Judge, he had been reading a small journal; that had been in his robe pocket, at the other side of the room. Turning his head to look at her, the maiden mumbling to herself.  
"It's getting late, are you hungry?" she enquires, getting to her feet in a rather dazed fashion. He does not say anything however, his head turning back down to look at the tanned pages of the brown book. Pouting softly she drops back down onto her knees, the hat being held out for another attempt at convincing him. Catching his attention he looks at her, glaring with a frustrated grunt.  
"I'm not going back, not while Esmeralda is with that…_man_" the last words bitter on his tongue, Seraphina sighing and shoving the hat over his grey hair. The red ribbon hung over his face once it flutters down, getting up she goes towards the cupboards. While searching the inside for a wooden bowl she hides behind the door, staring at her reflection in a cup. How could he be so worked up over Elephant? He had only met her, spoke to her once, a passing brush at the tip of his burning fingers.

Seraphina had been poking about in the cupboard for a few minutes now, her hazel eyes disappearing behind her slowly slitting eyelids. She didn't want to see him like this, it hurt her to see him in so much emotional pain. How could he be so infatuated by a woman who doesn't want to be with him, how could a man be so blind to rejection Bringing her self out from the shaded storage area she lifts her head, to hear the metal of her roof rattling for yet another night. Straightening up she struggles to shut the wooden window latches, Frollo appearing behind the woman as he reaches around her. His ebony sleeves running across her soft skin, while his bony fingers clasp the metal to help her shut the window. Turning her head she brushes against his nose, he had started sniffing her hair.

Slightly alarmed the crimson haired maiden looks up at him, raising her eyebrow at him.  
"You get stranger every day…" Seraphina mumbles, reaching up when she faces him to grip his hat. Spinning it against his head until it sits properly, she could swear he didn't know how to dress himself at times. Looking into his dark eyes softly she tilts her head, shutting one eye to sit half lidded while she smiles sweetly up at him. Even though she looked slightly dopy because of it, the Judge could see so much more in her. A deeper and affectionate stare that only he would receive, a love for anything he did. Good or bad.  
The witch could see through him, she could break him down until he was like a new-born child. No one else could make him seem so gentle, and somewhat 'happy'. Like a small wife she had started fiddling with the corners of his robe, fixing them and folding the collar back down. Reaching his hand up he grasps her cheek, trying to look into her eyes another time.

A gentle, almost unnoticeable, pink rising across the bridge of her delicate nose.  
"I'll be leaving now" blinking she opens her mouth, suddenly completely happy about something.  
"Are you going back to the Palace of Justice?" she enquires hopefully, resting her hand on his chest while he keeps holding her cheek.  
"I suppose I have no other choice" he states, while she watches his head rise a little more on his shoulders. Gasping she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his ribcage happily. Burying her face into the black robe, clearly excited that he wasn't going to just quit.  
Slightly winded he grunts, stroking the back of head while placing his lips against the top.

The hot air rushing across her scalp when he breaths, inhaling the herbs and spices that clung to the maiden.  
"I was going to go to the Festival of Fools, I'll walk with you into town" Seraphina chirps, in a bright and bubbly manner. "You should come with me, we can look at dresses" the young woman adds, pulling at the tattered dress she was wearing.  
"Where did you get the money?" Frollo enquires, pulling the blue bands on the ends of his sleeves straight.  
"I've been saving up, I have just enough.." her lips curling up while he watches her, a small part of the compassion he felt only for himself breaking away.  
"I'll buy you a dress, for taking me in and feeding me" he states coldly, trying not to seem as if he was going soft.  
"But I wouldn't want to waste your money" the young Scot retorts, worry and guilt slowly etching its way up her face.  
"Nonsense, Maria" his hands that were now equipped with his rings shifting, raised to point to the door as he opens it for her. Blushing gently she follows him, standing under the small cloth roof just outside her house.  
"It's a dreich day…" she mumbles, spotting a few of the clouds above slowly departing to allow flecks of greys and blues through.

Beside him the scarlet haired woman slowly strides along, the Judge at ease for once. As he walks through the slowly increasing populated streets of Paris, Seraphina smiling all the while at his side. Some pheasants glancing over, not at him, but at her. The maidens unnatural hair swaying at her back, down from its usual plated tail. From a distance people probably thought she was on fire, from the way it fluttered in the breeze. Catching and reflecting the golden lights of the summers afternoon, untying a ragged cloth from on top of her head the flurry of reds flare out.  
Children that would usually not stop running and yelling pausing, to stare at the fair maiden. Entering the festival it was the first time that the grey haired man had come without guards, without his horse. In amongst the gypsy and other people, lost in the crowds while Seraphina holds his sleeve. Keeping close enough to be seen, but without being too close to him. She had never been to the festivals before, the arrays of people frightening her. She didn't want to get lost, not in a place she wasn't sure about.

At a stall there were vivid dresses, some bigger than others, each brighter than the next. Peering at every one of them she runs a delicate finger along her bottom lip, there were so many to choose from. "I like the red one" she states, 'surprisingly'. It had a streaked pattern going down and across, Frollo reminded of her once calling it 'Celtic tartan'. Each streak either being black, white, or grey from the top of the hip down to the frilled edges. Unlike the others it did not have a bit at the back which stuck out, it must have been part of the new fashion as other women were starting to wear the same style. He couldn't understand women, they were a strange and distant species from his own. Unlike the essential corset dress, it was the equivalent of children's clothing, loosely hung and hiding the figure. With several layers down the dress it shifted out, clearly for dancing purposes and laced at the back.

Glancing towards him the shop keeper was elsewhere, talking to another woman.  
"If that's the one you want" he bluntly states, having the maiden ask for the man bring it from the rafter of the stall. Buying it she wanders beside him again, examining the rest of the stalls as they pass. Frollo didn't like the festivities, not one bit. Especially not after the embarrassment he had to endure yesterday because of that gypsy.  
"Claude, look" the scarlet haired woman smiles, appearing from a changing room to show him the dress. Twirling for him and bowing, a smile slowly creeping up his face.  
"You looks lovely" he replies, watching her take his sleeve and charge forwards.  
They were about to name and shame the festivals fool, crowds clumping together while she stands next to him. A man in a mask peering over the heads of the crowds, trying to see who he would pick to be the fool. Frollo and Seraphina had been to the very back of the groups, a pair of people suddenly grabbing the Judge. Flinching the scarlet haired girl turns, gasping in confusion.  
"H-hey, what are you doing?" she snaps, reaching out to try grab him. Missing each others hand he his dragged away, disappearing into the crowds. Getting crashed and dragged back the girl panics, staring around the hundreds of unknown faces.

Freaking out and charging in the direction they had taken him, a yell from the stage causing her to turn her head. Frollo was on the stand, tied up and on the wooden panels. Gasping she grabs for a close by ladder, trying to get higher up to see over the floods of people. From here she could not hear what was being yelled, but when people started throwing fruits and vegetables her hazel eyes widened. Gulping she scatters her thoughts, grabbing out her unravelling rosary beads to pray for his safety. From the stage he had kept ducking his head, trying to escape the oranges and hard apples.  
Fermenting juices hitting his clothes, while everyone laughs manically. Throwing insults and food, his yelling for them to stop blurred out by their over powering chanting. From the rabble he could hear the man in the mask stating 'We all get what we deserve', everyone snickering and suddenly cheering when rocks are then pelted down.

Shutting his eyes there is a tremendous explosion, everyone jumping when a large wooden barricade clatters down. People jumping back and away from it smashing against the cobbled streets of the square, a voice shattering through the darkening sky.  
"How dare you harm a human being!" the voice harshly states, everyone looking around while Frollo widens his eyes. A putrid cloud of smoke suddenly bursting across the stage he was on, everyone turning their heads swiftly.  
A figure appearing from behind the fading smoke, it was Seraphina. "As children of the gods above, how dare you harm a man in front of a _church_!" she yells, her fiery hair shifting in the wind as people fall silent, some yelling from the background. "Do none of you know that Notre-Dame sees all!" her hand pointing to the statues, their lifeless stone eyes watching down on all of them. As the sky grows darker still, her hazel eyes pin down everyone of the people. "These actions will not go unpunished!" the zealots voice ringing through the air, raising her hand up. "Don't think for a second god will take pity on your blackened souls!" she bellows, some flinching at the front.

A knife being raised up to her palm, everyone widening their eyes when she makes a cut. Clenching her hand into a fist blood drops onto the stage, suddenly bursting into flames that go down towards the people below. The fire not corroding the wood, or her clothes when it raises up near her. "Until everyone accepts everyone, then nothing will change!", her hand being raised up, "For cruel acts against a child of god, against the Judge of Paris, against your own kind. I have set a curse upon all of your mortal souls!" throwing spices across the ground they start to pop and fizzle, children that are frightened hiding against their parents. "If you do not try to change your ways, then Notre-Dame will do it for you! Be this your final warning, or your final resting place!" Seraphina plights, throwing something at the floor. Smashing her foot on the wooden stage she suddenly bursts into smoke, taking Frollo with her. The smoke creating the eerie smell of blood, and brimstone.

In a dark room she had been trying to untie him, the splotches of juices causing a horrible smell. "I forgot how horrible the civilians of Paris were…" she whispers, a few grazes across her cheek were someone had thrown a stone beforehand.  
"You really are a witch" he states, watching her stop fumbling for a moment.  
"Haud yer wheesht. They'll hear you if you yell" Seraphina hisses, putting a hand to his lips. "You can't call me a witch, you saw how the vanishing trick worked" she states in a whisper, pointing to a panel on the ceiling of the room. "It's just a small packet of coloured flour, see?" she adds, pulling out a hand full of the soft white grains. "Besides, I helped you didn't I?" the maiden enquires, glancing at a streak up his cheek from a banana peel.  
"The cut to your hand, the curses!" he snaps, slitting his eyes and accusing her of crimes against god. Rolling her eyes she wipes his face with a cloth, his hands now almost untied completely from the ropes.  
"You think the curse would really happen? It was to buy me some time to get you out of there" the scarlet zealot grunts, sitting at his knees. Wiping his nose with the handkerchief while mumbling, it would take some washing to get the smell out. Out of him, and the clothes.

He had fallen silent at this point, irritated that she had questioned his intelligence so bluntly. "…Are you okay?" she enquires, looking up with the same soft and worried eyes she always had for him.  
"I'm fine." he mutters, snatching the hanky to wipe himself down. Glancing at her knees she sighs, Frollo looking up at her for only a moment.  
"I'm sorry.. It's all because of me" her voice breaking slightly, as she starts rubbing her wrist. The Judge tensing when he sees that she is on the verge of crying, reaching out to touch her cheek.  
"There is no such thing, stop crying…" he mutters, examining her dull hazel eyes. His thumb catching one of her tears, leading her in she leans against his chest. "Beata Maria" his voice ghosts, into her ear while she sniffs softly. "Check if everyone has left" Frollo orders, watching her nod softly and crawl towards a section of panels. Pulling one out and placing it to the side gently to peek out, it had grown completely dark by now. Outside she leans into the small hole, holding his hand as she helps him to his feet. Through the street they quietly wander, her head tilting to look up at the clear moon.  
"It's a braw bricht moonlit nicht the nicht" the scarlet haired woman smiles, peering around the unfamiliar streets.

Cut out from the thick Paris walls there was a large opening, it was the palace of justice. Her feet tapping against the stone flooring when they enter through the large wooden doors, guards raising their eyebrows to the strange smell protruding from the pair. Leading Seraphina to a bedroom he goes towards his own, just outside and on the wall which ends the corridor. Having a bath she soaks her feet, sighing softly while glancing to the stain-glass window on the wall above her. She had turned out the candles to lay in the surrounding darkness, swishing her hands in the warm water. The light from the nights disc hitting off of the large silver bath tub, basking her body in the glow. On the floor there was a circle, bright and alive with the different colours reflected off of the window.

~Il dolce suono mi colpi di sua voce!… Ah, quella você… M'e qui nel cor discesa Edgardo! Lo ti son resa Edgardo! Ah, Edgardo mio!~ she sings, the echo of the room lamenting her voice. ~Si, ti son resa! Fugiti io son da' tuoi nemici, un gelo mi serpeggia nel sen...! Trema ogni fibra!… Vacilla it pie! Presso la fonte meco t'assidi aliquant. Si, presso la fonte meco t'assidi…~ with eyes closed she allows her voice to go up and back down, disappearing further into the water. Her voice reaching multiple high notes, both almost unnaturally and perfectly aligned and controlled. From outside the door Frollo could hear her, his body still while he listens to the angelic voice. Drifting from the silence to his ears, from his ears to his mind. Out from the bath Seraphina dries herself off, glancing towards a sleeping dress on the bed. The Judge expected her to stay?

Putting it on she wraps herself up in a robe, so as to leave the room and go looking for him. She hadn't needed to go very far, he was standing outside the door. Towering over her, staring with unfamiliar eyes. Blinking the maiden smiles brightly, letting him into the room.  
"Speak o' the devil" she chimes, moving and sitting down on the bed. Her slender fingers fumbling with a few candles to try light them, her head drawn away by Frollo's thin and cold hand. Pulling the maiden to look up at him, there was something very strange in his eyes. Leaning closer to the young Scot she blinks, flinching back when he tries to kiss her. Wide eyed she leaps up when he tries again, jumping away from him as he starts to get angry.  
"Hold still!" he snaps, trying to snatch at her. Managing to snag her wrist he lunges at her, throwing her to the ground. One knee pressed to the ground while she kicks at his hips, struggling and turning her cheek to the icy floor.  
"Stop it Claude!" Seraphina panics, being crushed against the floor by his weight.  
"I am a patient man" he mumbles, shifting near her ear to pause and smell her hair. "But there is more than I can bare" he mutters, stroking her cheek.  
"This is against your religion!" the scarlet zealot retorts, freeing one of her hands. Bashing it against the table a candle falls, setting part of her robe on fire. Squeaking like a mouse she tries to drag the coat away from her, Frollo moving to grab a glass of water.  
"Hellfire!" the grey haired man shrieks, throwing it onto the flames and candle. Dousing them she still freaks out, pulling her robe off and throwing it in any distant direction. Glancing at Frollo she tenses, remembering what had happened just a few minutes prior.

However, as if it never happened he had taken her arm, to make sure that there was no damage. A red mark against her skin, but nothing severe. "Stupid woman, put it under a tap!" he plights, pushing her towards the bathrooms.  
"Dinnae teach yer granny tae suck eggs!" the maiden grunts, twisting a trusty grey metal devise to let a small trickle of water fall. Placed under the tap she hisses, the pain running up her body. Looming over her Frollo watches, that eerie expression from before creeping its way through. Seraphina had only been standing in her sleeping dress, something no man should see unless married to the woman.

Reaching out the grey haired man ghosts his fingertips across the back of her neck, tracing down her spine to where her waist is. Shuddering she tries to ignore him, her line of sight pressed firmly to her reddened arm.  
"Beata Maria, you know I'm so much purer than the common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd…" Frollo whispers, the young woman glancing at him. His body leaning into her, stroking her cheek softly. "Then tell me, Maria. Why I see you dancing there, why your smouldering eyes still scorch my soul…" blinking she turns her head slightly, turning off the tap. "I feel you, I see you. The sun caught in your scarlet hair is blazing in me out of all control" running his thumb against her cheek she shuts her eyes slightly, to look at him with that same loving stare. "Like fire, hellfire. This fire in my skin, this burning desire is turning me to sin. It's not my fault" he states, watching her shuffle against the sink with uncertainly. "I'm not to blame, it was the gypsy girl… The witch who sent this flame, it's not my fault" he utters, staring into her hazel eyes.

Blaming Esmeralda for opening such a sinful door, one that has caused him to harm his closet ally. From it he can now see his true self however, why when ever he looks at Seraphina there is a chaotic fire in Frollo's stomach.  
"What if in God's plan, he made the devil so much stronger than a man…" the scarlet haired woman enquires, reaching up both hands to cup his face.  
"Protect me, Maria. Don't let that siren cast her spell. Don't let her fire sear my flesh and bone, destroy Esmeralda from my mind… and let her taste the fires of hell. Or else be mine, and mine alone" leaning down towards her the girls hands slide, the scarlet maidens body entranced in the strange melody that was almost like a lullaby.

Letting their lips meet she shuts her eyes completely, running fingers through the hairs at the back of his head. Doing the same he grips and releases Seraphina's long crimson locks, kissing each corner of her lips and then her nose.  
"Claude" the young maiden whispers, gripping the back of his ebony robe while cuddling him. "What are you going to do, you can't have a relationship… Your religion-" cut off by another gentle, yet rough kiss, Frollo mutters. Raising his head to look down at her, his lip parting slightly.  
"Beata Maria, you know I am a righteous man and of my virtue I am justly proud…" he mumbles, playing with the ends of her hair. "But I'm not powerful enough to stave off these feeling, not for much longer. I've lost what honour I had within the church many years ago…" smiling softly he kisses her again, he had found something better than a sinful gypsy. He had found his sight, lost within a girl without a face.


End file.
